


Then There Was Three

by Malind



Category: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Alternate Reality, Angst, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Self-cest, Sephiroth is a sexy beast, Tripletcest, Twincest, World Domination
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-14 13:52:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5746231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malind/pseuds/Malind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sephiroth had a plan: One body, one mind, and then 'bam' the planet would be his.  Unfortunately the plan split into ways he hadn't intended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Split Second Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> You'll notice as you read that I made some adjustments. Go with the flow, please. :) For instance, these guys don't magically get to wear Sephiroth's armor. Also, originally, the creators of Advent Children intended Kadaj to ingest Jenova. I changed it back to that for this story.
> 
> Disclaimer: The Final Fantasy VII characters and universe are owned by Square Enix. I make no profit from this fanfiction.

Kadaj clutched against his body the damaged case that held their mother, defending her from the world.   At the moment, the world had solidified itself in the body of Cloud Strife who kept on their tail, traveling at the same hazardous speeds as his brothers and himself. 

A growl barely had the time to make it out of his throat when he saw the 'Do No Enter' gate blocking off entrance to the dilapidated highway at the top of the ramp.  He sped up since there was no way to avoid the collision. 

His motorcycle slammed into metal, tearing the gate from its hinges and sending it flipping at a high rate of speed onto the barren highway.  Kadaj jerked his head to look out of the corner of his eye and, to his delight, saw the smashed-up gate slam into Cloud's forehead, knocking his head back, even though he'd probably tried to avoid it.  The momentum plowed the swordsman off of his motorcycle, sending his body into the air until he landed in a tumble on the ground, arms and legs flailing. 

His brothers barely avoided running the wounded man over.  He wished they could have, but there was no sense in damaging the bikes if it could be avoided.  They still needed to travel quite some distance.

The rest of the chase was a blur of squealing tires, gunfire, explosions, and helicopters, everything that was probably left of Shin-Ra's pitiable army.  They finally managed to lose the pursuit in the old ruins of Midgar. 

Then the wait began.  The hours it took for night to come edged their bodies towards action.  Loz almost immediately took to pacing back and forth between the pock-holed walls of a devastated building.  Kadaj watched the remnant's every step, wanting to tie him up to stop the relentlessness as much as he wanted to join him.

"It's better that we wait until night," Kadaj blurted out icily, unable to take Loz's motions any longer, trying to convince himself as well as he felt the same urge to flee.

Loz glared at him, his teeth grinding, then stalked to a wall and slammed his back against it.  Chunks of debris took to the air as the barely standing structure threatened collapse.

Yazoo watched the cloud for a moment before he added, "Take this building down and you'll be the one digging the bikes out."

The bulky remnant shifted his glare, but just grunted and let the back of his head thud against the wall. His eyes closed although his breathing remained heavy.

Quietly, more to himself, Kadaj also added, "We can't risk Mother's life anymore."

Especially not after he'd all but lost her to Rufus Shinra.  He wished whole-heartedly that he'd killed the man when he'd had the chance.  The wretched human had almost killed their mother and destroyed so many plans, everything they'd been working towards, all in one blast of his gun. For his own piece of mind, Kadaj spent the rest of the evening visualizing the horrid things he could do to Shinra's body. 

Later, he decided, when everything fell into place, he'd enact his revenge.

Soon enough, in the dark of night, the three of them made their way out of the city, to the Lost Capital, to the pool illuminated with the white glow of the ancient forest.  The liquid was still vaguely black from the poisoning that had claimed the minds of the children what had enabled them to serve their purpose of distraction and being meat shields.

The three of them dismounted their motorcycles and walked to the water's edge. 

Kadaj smiled, a small quirk of one side of his lips.  "We'll do it here.  This will be the throne of Mother's empire."  He faced his brothers and gracefully came down onto his knees, putting his treasure on the ground between them.  He took off his gloves, wanting to feel her with his skin, and opened the damaged box. 

Loz eyed the soupy mix, coming down on his knees as well, resting his weapon on the ground.  "What are we going to do?"

Kadaj frowned.  "Tell me you don't hear her?" 

"Hear what?"

The shortest remnant sighed his brotherly contempt.

Yazoo came down to complete the circle.  "I hear nothing."

The sigh renewed, although it became defeated.  Kadaj dipped a finger into the goop.  "She's telling us to devour her, to bring her into ourselves so we can be complete."

"But-but..."  Loz straightened his back, eyes wide.  "Won't that kill her?"

"No.  Why would she tell us to do this if it would kill her?  It's what she wants." 

To prove there was nothing to fear, Kadaj swept a hand through the mix, picking up a considerable glob, then cupped it between both hands and presented it.  The remnant wasn't in any pain that would be obvious to his brothers.  Their mother's booming voice failed to lash their ears and stop their hearts.  In fact, everything was the same as it'd been before. 

"See." Kadaj smiled his encouragement. 

Brows furrowed in dire concentration, Loz took a few moments before he finally relented.  The frown turned into a cringe though for the whole procedure, hands visibly shaking. 

Taking his turn, Yazoo's looked between them as his hand hovered.  Kadaj, growing overly impatient, nonetheless merely nodded his encouragement to fulfil this divine plan.  The gunman glided his hand into the container, took up much of the remaining amount, and finally sat back on his heels.

Finally!  Finally it was time to reclaim their mother, to claim their destiny, to lay rightful claim to the world!

Cupped hands brought the dripping mess to Kadaj's mouth.  His brothers did the same.  Then he closed his eyes and swallowed the sweet, salty, chunky goop, hearing noises that assured him that his brothers did the same.  At first, he felt nothing.  Then, inside of his belly, a painless fire lit and swarmed outward, faster and faster until it consumed his body and mind in glorious heat.  And then he knew no more.

His clothing tight around his body, Kadaj being a couple sizes smaller than himself, when Sephiroth opened his eyes, he couldn't help his momentary shock at the two mirror images of himself, except for the clothing.  He'd known from Kadaj's fleeting memories what he'd see when he opened his eyes, but that knowledge didn't help calm his pulse. 

There was only supposed to be one of him, not three.  One ruler of the planet.  One god.  One commander of the vessel his feet rested upon.  Not three. 

One other Sephiroth opened his eyes, and then the other.  He could see similar thoughts going through both of their minds, his consciousness stretched out and entwined into three physical bodies, one soul divided by three clumps of cells that had been different aspects of himself: his mind, heart, and strength.

This wasn't what he'd intended when he'd whispered thoughts in Kadaj's mind.  No, this couldn't be allowed.

Sephiroth stood up from his kneel, attempting to gain the upper hand of, well, himself.  The other two's eyes narrowed at the recognized aggression and took a quick glance at each other, before the two men seemed to come to a common agreement without a word. 

It was in that moment that Sephiroth realized his mistake:  How could he have thought, even for a moment, he could take on two of himself at the same time and win? 

It was too late now though for rationality.  He had to act.  In desperation, he raised his hand to call forth Masamune from thin air.  A split second later, the other two were on him before the action could be fully realized, taking him to the ground, knocking the air out of his lungs, air he hadn't needed a minute before in death. 

The Sephiroth, with Loz's armor, had one hand gripped in the tangle of Kadaj-Sephiroth's hair, holding his head painfully to the ground, and the other on his shoulder, his legs half-straddling him at mid chest.  The other one, an instant step behind, had Yazoo's gunblade in his hand, poised to slice his head off.

"Wait," Sephiroth shouted out desperately after sucking in a breath.  The silver-haired man with the blade paused, but Sephiroth could see that it was only from a tenuous curiosity which offered a chance to get out another sentence or two.  He blurted out the first thing that came to his mind:  "You don't know what will happen if you kill me!  This could end before it even started."

The one with the blade seemed to think about the words.  The one with the brawn jerked his hand from his shoulder to his throat, tightening severely enough to make him gag, a warning since apparently Yazoo-Sephiroth wasn't prepared to take his head off quite yet, before loosening the grip a touch.  Sephiroth coughed as much as he could at the pain enraging his throat.

"He's right.  Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo were each a part of me, remnants of my physical body."  The Yazoo-Sephiroth mumbled, then shot a quick glance to man next to him and then the man under them.  "Of us.  We're separate, but of one soul."

"So what?"

The gunblade wielding Sephiroth glowered for a fraction of a second at the questioning Sephiroth and then slammed the butt of his weapon into the downed Sephiroth's temple, sending him into unconsciousness.

Minutes, hours later--he didn't know--he awoke to a mind-numbing throbbing in his head, his body as a whole trembling with hot pain, bringing a dry heave to wrack through his gut.  His head jerked up not of his own accord, against his will, pulled on by his long hair, then dropped onto the solid ground with a dull thud just as suddenly.

A laugh pounded his head, as heavy booted feet walked away.  Metal clattered to the ground a short distance away. 

"Look, now we can tell him apart."

"That was rather pointless," said his voice in another body, cool and low.

The Sephiroth on the ground worked his eyes open while he twisted his body just enough to gauge his predicament.  Right away, he realized why he couldn't move much.  Bindings ate at his flesh, contorting his body into an unnatural position with his arms and feet tied together behind his back.  Unspoken of memories of prior restraint brought instant panic, circumstances the other two surely knew about but apparently didn't care.

His breathing increased even as he tried to not bring attention to himself, holding back a holler of dismay.  His trembles however couldn't be helped for the moment.  He closed his eyes again and willed himself to be calm, controlled.  He'd been in worse situations, after all...  Then again, no he hadn't. 

His first instinct was to get out of the ropes, an effort that would surely be helped by calling his sword, but until he had his body and mind somewhat under control, he didn't want the attention any type of revolt would bring.  But the longer he laid there like that, he knew, the worse his pain would become.

The man looked out through hooded eyes to the two men a short distance away.  They didn't seem to be paying him much mind.  The one who wore Yazoo's armor searched through his own motorcycle, categorizing perhaps, or looking for something useful.  He couldn't remember what was in his own motorcycle, in Kadaj's.

Loz-Sephiroth threw a stone into the blackened water.  "What if we killed him and ate him too?  Maybe we'd absorb him."

"And then what?  Who's next?  I have no intention of dying."

"Me either."  The man smirked.  "Who said -we- had to die?"

"I suppose.  But there is…" Scowling eyes looked at the supposedly unconscious Sephiroth.  "-Him- to worry about."

"So we kill him.  No more worries."

"I don't know if it's that simple.  After all, he is the heart."

The Sephiroth, seated at the edge of the pond, shifted on the ground, turning to glare at the man still playing with the contents of his motorcycle.  "And I'm what?"

Yazoo-Sephiroth snorted.  "You're not the mind."

Sephiroth tried restrain any visible relief at the realization that they still acknowledged his reasoning.  It was an idea that he himself had no idea if it held any merit.  He could only hope that that the other two would anger each other enough and attack, hopefully not killing him in the process, ridding him of the problem they presented, consequences be damned if he should perish too merely because of their deaths.

The only Sephiroth whose armor actually fit properly, Yazoo-Sephiroth, walked around the bike, towards him, and placed a booted foot at his chest, shoving slightly, bringing the air out of his chest.  "He's awake.  And I know what to do with him.  Bring me his katana."

Loz-Sephiroth stood, walked a few paces, picked up the weapon he'd thrown, and walked up to them.  He glared down at Sephiroth, a look that spoke of annoyance and revenge against him for being the cause of this predicament. 

And really, it was his fault in an indirect, confusing way.  After all, Kadaj had been the one he'd talked to from beyond the grave, had urged to devour 'mother' with half-thoughts.  But it wasn't his fault that Kadaj had clearly misunderstood him and instead had all three of them do the deed.

In one body, any of them really, he could have ruled without interference, although Kadaj had been the preferable choice, containing the best of all worlds:  admittedly a touch less of strength and mind, but also possessing the dire will to do what was needed to fulfill his plans.  In three bodies, well, the obvious problems had already presented themselves quite readily.

All thoughts stopped when the blade exchanged hands and, to his utter mortification, started slicing away his clothing.

"What are you doing," the loose-armored Sephiroth asked, uneasiness tensing his voice.

"A heart must be tamed.  We're going to tame him."

Sephiroth could barely even struggle against the assault that didn't hurt as the back of the blade slid underneath his armor and caressed his skin.  If fact, he only hurt himself by fighting with everything in him against the body-twisting bondage, rubbing his wrists raw and practically tearing his limbs out of his sockets.  His efforts did nothing but exhaust him mentally and physically.

A ragged breath lump on the ground, the top half of armor mostly missing, he suddenly realized he didn't have to use his body.  He squeezed his eyes shut and called forth the power within himself.  Immediately, the air around them pulsed with power, bringing forth light brighter than the sun that streamed through the trees. 

Lost in it, he barely felt the new thud to his head.  He lost himself in yet another rash of nightmares.

The sky brightened with the morning when, his head feeling like it was going to explode, he only managed to open one eye, the other one sealed shut but not pained.  He had to assume the sealant was crusted blood.  Hopefully, anyway.  But he couldn't imagine himself resorting to rape, whether in violation of another person or not.  And certainly not against himself.

No, what they'd done to him was a common war tactic:  the degrading of a prisoner to make them feel helpless, docile, and confused. 

If they'd been trying to get information out of him, now, they probably would have resorted to full-out torture and deprivation.  It wasn't something he himself had ever done, but people under his command had, and he knew the tactics. 

But, no, torturing him would be of no use in their situation.  Unless their intent was to fully break him.  But then they'd have a timid slave and not a useful member of the 'team'.  Instead, first he'd, and in turn they'd, try to bring him to their side.

And at this point, he decided that he would go along with it.  What choice did he have when they only held the upper hand?

And, really, they, all three of them, were himself.  This split of his soul hadn't been his plan, but he could make it work.  Nearly anything could be made to work in one way or another with enough motivation and fight.

And then, when the time was right, he would realign his plans by killing the other two.

Sephiroth moved his head a touch, trying to catch sight of his mirror images, and locked one eye onto Yazoo-Sephiroth's staring ones a short distance away.  He knew he should have backed down, submitted, but it wasn't in himself, and hadn't been for many years.

The gunblademan smirked and leaned forward, wrapping an arm around a bent knee.  "I know what you're thinking, 'Sephiroth', and I don't trust you in the least.  I keep thinking: What would I do if I was you?  And I know what I'd do.  But unfortunately I see the difference between me and you in your eyes:  I obviously have a greater fear of death than you.  I am not going back to it.  And whatever you think you will gain and however you go about it, know that I will stop you and kill you, if it comes to it.  But I rather hope it won't since I don't want to take the risk."  He leaned forward a touch more.  "Do you understand me?"

Trying to play the part under his double's intense stare, his eyes flickering to the other man who was sleeping on his side less than a body's length from Yazoo-Sephiroth, Sephiroth did his best to nod, but it unfortunately sent a wave of nausea through him and he clenched his eyes shut to ride it out.

Minutes later, what felt like hours, Yazoo-Sephiroth asked in his distinct voice, "Are you cold?  There's a blanket in a compartment on my bike."

Sephiroth tried to not hear as he realized just how chilled his whole body was.  No wonder his pain was lessened when it should have been unbearable by then.  He didn't say a word through clenched teeth. 

Stockholm syndrome.  He had to agree, the tactic was a good one, even for someone who knew about it and its workings, like all three of them did.  Torture someone, run them down, but show them some slight kindnesses to make them think their captor isn't such a bad person, and in the end, get them dependent and trustful that their best interest is in the mind of their 'keeper,' however brutal that keeping is.

"I'd like it better if you untied me," he growled, his voice cracking from dehydration.

"That won't be happening for a while, if it ever does."

Sephiroth smirked, unable to help it, the humor of it all coming to him at the poorest of times.  "A heavy burden, don't you think?"

"Yes, yes you are."


	2. Pain Comes Either Way

The longer Sephiroth laid there, the less desire he had to show any hostility or disdain, at least not outwardly.  As the morning warmed the air, the torment of his taut body grew, drawing out moaning sobs, his head grinding against the ground.  He'd had no idea that being hogtied behind his back for hours upon hours could be so excruciating. 

And embarrassing under the scrutiny of his 'brothers', his nakedness jutting out for everyone and every creature to see. 

But not to forget about the pain...

How could he get them to trust him, at least enough to get them to bind him in a different position?  Strapped to one of the trees perhaps.  Even spreader bars would have been so much more preferable. 

As he breathed ragged breaths against the ground, blowing up dust, his chest half way onto the ground to keep his crotch semi-safe from prickles and bugs, he watched the other two men, talking quietly amongst themselves, their bodies far from agony.  He glared his bitterness.  At one time, Kadaj would have been a part of that circle, had in fact been close to their leader, but he'd utterly screwed that up with his impulsiveness and thirst for control.

Sephiroth knew he should just give in, submit, beg for their forgiveness, even if it made him want to choke himself to death.  He'd submitted enough in his first life, after all.  He knew it was in himself to do it.  But that was before he'd come to know who he truly was:  the rightful ruler of this rock he wanted to tear apart at that moment, right after he tore apart his two doubles.

Aquamarine eyes squeezed shut, the sealed one worked open a couple of hours before.  Calm, he needed to calm his mind.  Control, he needed to control this body.  He needed both to pacify Kadaj's aspect of himself which insisted he set the world on fire.

Now, with his mind and body trembling, he wondered if Kadaj had truly been the best choice.  Well, he would have been if the remnant had actually paid attention to his whispered words and done what the fuck he told him to.

"The fucking idiot," he hissed at the ground.

Booted footsteps drew near.  His eyes flashed open and saw Loz-Sephiroth frowning down at him.  He jerked his head up, his mouth open, to shout at him to stay the hell away, but when he did, he realized there was no weighted pull to the motion.  It stopped him, as he strained his mind, trying to figure out why there wouldn't have been weight.  Then he remembered that, hours before, this man had jerked his head up and then let it thump to the ground.  At the time, too lost, he hadn't realized the significance.  Nor would he have believed it if someone had told him his hair had been butchered. 

He was vain over his hair.  A person had to be to keep it at that length, considering the amount of care that went into it.  Most people would have sooner shaved their heads rather than deal with it.

And it was gone. He couldn't deny the lightness of his head which only testified to that fact.

Some illogical part of him feeling like he could do something about it, that he could somehow fix the damage, well, at the very least could mourn the loss, Sephiroth jerked his head up more against the strain of rigid muscles, a large accumulation of hair washing over his face and barely any touching his shoulders.

There, a short distance from his head, he saw all of his hair, raggedly hacked and quite separate from his head.  Seeing it there shocked him more than anything else that had happened in the last few hours. How had he not noticed it'd been cut before that moment...

Sephiroth jerked his head back to the other man, and ignored the wooziness the motion brought, while boiling his sudden frenzy, as he ground out, "You fucking bastard!  I'm going to rip your fucking organs out of your throat!"

His double let out a chuckle and looked to his other self.  "No, he's not ready yet."

His rage shrank to nothing.  Oh god, yes, he was ready!  He was so ready!  "Untie me!"  The other man started walking away again.  "God, please, just untie me!  I'm not..."  The other man only kept walking, so he saved his breath and dropped his head back to the ground, gasping at renewed wooziness. 

For one brief moment, he considered calling forth power and simply obliterating the area, life be damned, but with all traces of geostigma, Jenova, and remnants neutralized or gone, this was his last chance at life. 

No, he wasn't going to give into that urge.  At least not yet. 

Nor did he want to attempt escape, if he freed himself.  First of all, he doubted he'd have been able to do more than crawl.  Second, while he was crawling, he didn't want another weapon full-out smashed against his head.  And he'd probably get one anyway simply for attempting to get free of his bindings.  He didn't know how many more blows this body could take without serious repercussions. 

And attacking his doubles:  Well, they had the same power he did, admittedly in probably varying strengths, but enough to make both of them together more than a threat.

So he laid there and let the pain mount until every breath was a sob and his bladder was ready to explode.  Even more infuriating, his hips began to wiggle against his will as he tried to hold on, not ready to piss himself. 

In his struggle, he didn't realize someone had come up behind him until a blade cut easily through the rope at his ankles. But even that he barely recognized the significance of, so lost in his misery.  He gasped as his legs came forward, the tension released, but couldn't move them further than that without calling out.  Sudden free-flowing blood went to his feet like shards of glass burrowing under his skin.  That did make him call out without shame.  It hurt, all of it hurt, and he would have liked to see anyone else try it before judging.

Maybe another chance at life hadn't been such a great idea after all.

But eventually the pain subdued a bit, and he slowly bent his knees, bringing them oh-so-slowly to his chest while his arms were still tied behind him and numb like his feet had been.  The task barely accomplished, a strong hand grabbed him by the upper arm and hauled him up to his feet.  His eyes went wide and all he could manage was a half-strangled scream.  Then he was pulled along to the trees, the man holding onto his upper arms.  That grip was the only reason he stayed upright. 

The arms leaned him against a tree, and a hand grabbed his limp dick and pointed in an appropriate direction.  Shrinking back involuntarily, disgusted with the touch even though it was technically his own, but not getting far for obvious reasons, it took him a moment to comprehend his double's intent, Loz-Sephiroth from the look of his sleeve.

The short-haired man closed his eyes, breathed in a shaky breath that felt like fire in his dried out lungs, and shuddered, trying to will his body to relax enough to do its job.  Eventually, thankfully, the appropriate muscles released.  Rarely had he ever felt such relief.  He would have pissed himself in less than an hour.

"Feel better," the other man asked with a grin Sephiroth could hear, letting go of the extremity.  "Let's go."

Then he was pulled back towards their makeshift camp.  The closer they got though, the more he involuntarily resisted, both from dread of more pain, as well as the panic of being tied up again.  "Don't tie me up again!  Please!"

Loz-Sephrioth stopped in front of the third man, and Sephiroth looked between them, his eyes half-crazed and begging for some shred of sympathy. 

"My heart," Yazoo-Sephiroth started.  The words managed to dampen Sephiroth's desperation, and he ended up glaring at the man, his mouth opening to admonish him.  The man smiled before the words formed.  "Calling you 'Sephiroth' wouldn't really be fair to us.  And calling you by your body's name, well, what do you think?  What would you prefer?"

Sephiroth blinked at the question, surprised and then again not surprised that the other two had managed to work out something between them that had even involved the acceptance of different names.  He looked at them like they were mad.  Surely they were.  He would always be Sephiroth and these two would just have to learn to accept that. His double's smile turned cold. 

Sephiroth gritted his teeth.  "It doesn't matter.  Heart," he blurted out despite his revulsion, not wanting to take on the idiot's name, as it would only remind him of his failure, his lack of control over his remnants, over and over again.  And it didn't matter what they called him.  He knew who he was and he'd never forget it.  He could deal with the name.  He could.  They were including him again, after all, and that was all that mattered for the moment, no matter what the rest of him wanted.

The smile warmed.  "Good.  And he's obviously the Strength.  And I’m the Mind."   He shrugged.  "No reason to deny the truth.  All three of us have attributes that, together, make us the most powerful beings on this planet."

The short-haired man nodded, trying to not laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of, well, all of it.  And he wasn't in much of a position to argue, being naked with his hands tied behind his back.

"Turn around," Mind murmured.

Sephiroth looked between but then turned around, stiff with caution.  A warm hand gripped his arm to the point of bruising.

"You must see that, together, we are complete, but I swear, Heart, if you so much as blink in the wrong direction, you will be taken down.  And killed, if need be, although I would hate it to come to that."

Then his binding was cut.  Just as with his feet, the blood flow felt horrible with renewed dizziness making him sway, but he gritted his teeth, repeatedly clenching fists as he slowly brought his hands around where he could see them.  He watched as natural color edged its way back to his fingertips.  Then he sucked in a shaky breath and then a few more, lightly rubbing his hands together, not daring to press hard, the limbs feeling like they'd snap off if he did.

One of them walked around him and pressed a pile of clothing against his chest.  He looked up at Strength, the man's smirk, and grabbed them, scared they'd be taken back to mock him.

With limbs that trembled, infuriating him, he slipped on the clothing.  It had been Yazoo's gear and it fit well, much better than Kadaj's had, almost perfectly, in fact.  He ignored their watchful eyes, not wanting to consider what they were probably considering:  Tying him up again.

How was he supposed to gain their trust?  Then again, would he have trusted himself had their positions been reversed?  Not with what he knew was going on inside of his own head.

"Now, if you're with us," Mind said, "We'd like to start discussing the takeover of this planet."

Sephiroth couldn't help his heart-felt smile.  It was about fucking time.


End file.
